And the One He Had to Marry
by RetroConverse
Summary: ASOIAF Kink Meme on LJ fill: Rickon/Any; Because someone has to carry on Slutty!Brandon's Stark legacy. - It's kinda AU, 'cause Jon Snow is not allowed to be dead in my mind... and the war lasts like 11 years...


**The Five Girls He Got for Free and the One He Had to Marry**

_One: Sansa Stark_

The stones were warm under foot from the water veined inside of them even in the middle of the night, as a little boy tip toes down the corridor trembling slightly. His dreams had kept him up once again, the taste of blood in his mouth and the sight of a rabbit torn to shreds still clinging to him in consciousness. Thus he set out into the halls, and after a while of tiptoeing quietly so not to awaken anybody who might usher him back to his own bed.

When he finally reaches his destination, he tries to quietly open the door and slip inside. Unfortunately, the door hinges need a good oiling, and the door creaked loudly before he was able to open and shut it, causing the young woman inside the room to awaken. The young boy flung himself across the room and into the woman's bed before she could utter a peep, wrapping his small arms around her and burying his head into her neck.

"Rickon?" the girl questioned the boy in a hushed voice, her hand coming up to smooth back this sleep ruffled auburn curls.

"Shaggydog… Rabbit… Just awful, Sansa…" Rickon's words were slurred and loud, not taking the time to correctly form a sentence and instead snuggling deeper into the older red heads embrace.

Sansa sighed at her little brother, sliding back down into bed with him in her arms and resting her chin on the top of his head. "Such a silly boy," she murmured sleepily before drifting off once again.

Rickon snuggled in a bit more, arms drifting from his sister's neck to her waist and fell asleep once again with a small smile on his face. He felt bettering knowing his biggest sister would always be there to hold him, and he silently vowed he wouldn't let anyone else know this comfort.

_Two: A Skagosi Girl_

Life on a rocky island where unicorns supposedly lived really wasn't all it was cracked up to be.

For one, there were no unicorns; Rickon looked all over. Second, Osha was always making him do chores, and teaching him things he didn't want to learn; he'd had enough of that at Winterfell. Third, he wasn't ever allowed to go with Osha when she went to visit the other older Skagosi at night; something about it not being for kids to see…

Really the only fun he ever got to have was when one or two of the other kids on the island came to his hut and snuck him out when Osha had her back turned. They took him to hidden caves, and along the rocky shore where they could find nice stuff that had drifted ashore from boats that had crashed into the rocks not too far from shore.

Today was one of those fun days as a cute little girl with messy brown hair, big brown eyes and a wicked smile around his age came and took him away from Osha's lessons. They were exploring a cave that both had never been in before when she abruptly turned towards him stopping, causing Rickon to slam into her. A few minutes of whining followed the collision before both stopped and Rickon was able to question the girl why she'd stopped.

The girl shrugged and smiled impishly. "I was wondering if you wanted to try kissing; my older brother is always talking about it and I want to know how it is!"

Rickon screwed up his face in confusion; he remembered kissing as those awful sloppy things he got from his mother, and other old ladies when they visited, making his forehead or cheeks feel all yucky. But, for the sake of curiosity on why she would want to try something so gross out, he consented to trying this "kissing."

The girl positioned him in front of her, tilting his head a little, and then told him to close his eyes. Rickon narrowed his eyes warily before complying, snapping his eyes shut and waiting for what felt like forever. Finally, he felt a pressure on his lips.

It was odd, and at first he didn't know what to do. But, of course, memories of Theon pushing a poor, pretty handmaiden against one of the corridors (mouths moving haphazardly, heads bobbing stupidly) came unbidden into his mind. Copying what he'd witnessed Theon and his brother, Robb, do on occasion he moved his mouth against hers and let his instincts take over.

Just when he was really starting to enjoy the kiss, the girl pulled back, giggling stupidly. She grabbed his hand and told him she wanted to keep exploring the cave. Rickon nodded, still a bit dazed and allowed her to drag him further into the dim, humid cave.

Maybe kissing wasn't so nasty after all.

_Three: A Wildling on the Wall_

The wall was damn cold. Rickon had no clue why anybody would ever volunteer to go to the wall unless they'd die otherwise. He'd rather be gelded, and the cold might just freeze his balls off anyways.

Tugging his furs tighter around his shoulders he set out into the blustering cold and began walking towards the Lord Commander's chambers, aka his brother Jon's rooms in the armory. Of course, he really had no business going there, but he didn't have anything else to do and if Ghost was in there maybe he could lure him out and get him to wake Shaggydog from his deep slumber. It would be nice to have some fun wreaking havoc on some unsuspecting crows.

All these plans were dashed though, as a pretty little wilding girl walked up. She was all big green eyes and flaming red hair, with a pale heart shaped face and slightly crooked teeth that looked adorable when she smiled. He'd talked to her before, but they both hadn't divulged their names, so he just called her Crooked. She got a little miffed when he called her that the first time, but eventually grew to accept it. He accepted it when she took to calling him Stupid.

Crooked grabbed his hand, tugging slightly to get him to follow and stating that she wanted to play a game. Rickon weighed his options in his mind; go play with some wolves or follow pretty Crooked and play some unknown game. Tough choice, but he'd have to go with the pretty girl now holding his hand and tugging him towards the tower where she and the other wildling women lived here at Castle Black.

She led him up the stairs, passing a multitude of women (who all smirked when they passed) and open doorways until they came to what he assumed was her room. She opened the door and led him in, letting him go first and closing the door behind the two of them. He turns to her and raises his eyebrows at her, asking what game she wanted to play.

Now, he may be young, but he was damn aware of what happened between men and women (Skagos had robbed him of that innocence), and he knew that when a girl began to take off her furs, to shut up and enjoy it while it lasted. She, of course, did not bare it all just yet; she just took off her outer layers of fur, leaving her in a thin shift and relying on the fire in the brazier a small ways away to keep her warm. She walked towards him then, a crooked smile to show off her crooked teeth on her face.

"I want to play _you show me yours, I'll show you mine_. You heard of it, haven't you, Stupid?"

Rickon, honestly, had not heard of such a game. But, as Crooked slipped off her shift and he got a good luck at her just budding breasts and the little tuft of red hair in between her legs, he couldn't get out of his breeches fast enough. He, after all, wanted a better showing.

Wildlings with red hair are called kissed by fire, and are supposedly lucky. But from where he was standing, he was the real lucky one.

_Four: Lyanna Mormont_

Rickon was older now, a man grown at the age of 14, and the war had gone on for long enough. He'd lived his last 11 years through too much to turn back now; he couldn't properly remember a time where there wasn't war. But this was going to be the last stand for the North, he would crush that backstabber Roose Bolton, and he'd flay his psychopath of a bastard if he got his hands on him.

He'd completely destroy the Bolton bloodline, he'd mow the Dreadfort to the ground, and after he found the rest of his siblings, for he refused to believe the rest of them dead, he would present them the skulls. He'd drink from Ramsay Snow's, sorry _Bolton's_, skull and laugh as one of his siblings drank from Roose Bolton's. Rickon would have vengeance for his family, and after the Bolton's, it will be the Frey's. No need to worry about the Lannister's, they're all buggered by now anyways.

But, that was all for tomorrow and later days, tonight he spent his time in his tent with the youngest of the Mormont girls, Lady Lyanna.

Their mouths clashed desperately when they arrived in his tent, their hands pulling on each other's clothing so they might be skin to skin. There was no gentleness in their movements, no hesitation so that they might explore each other's bodies like lovers might. This wasn't about love, or any other feelings for each other, just lust plain and simple. Neither of them knew if they'd survive what was to come tomorrow, but both of them wanted their last night to be a flurry of pleasure and intense passion. And when he thrust into her, it wasn't his name she gasped, and when he finally released, it wasn't her name that he groaned.

As they lay beside one another, the sweat cooling on their skin and the stink of their previous activities in the air, Rickon began to laugh. Lyanna narrowed her eyes slightly at him, before she began to laugh too. Their laughter reached the point of hysteria before they finally stopped; clutching their stomachs and wiping tears from their eyes.

It really was ridiculous that he'd officially become a man with a pretty girl he didn't truly want on the eve of a battle where he just might die.

_Five: Serving Girl in Winterfell_

So, he didn't die retaking the ruin that is Winterfell. He didn't die from the responsibilities that were heaped on his shoulders as he was named King in the North, the style of his late brother Robb. But his heart almost stopped when a vision from his distant childhood rode through the ruined gates of his ancient home. It looked as if his mother had come back from the grave, looking 20 years younger and slightly more cold and aloof.

The icy exterior crumbled of course when she saw Rickon standing just in front of her, his mouth gaping. She leaped off her horse in a very unladylike fashion, and threw herself at him, her head just reaching his chin; at fifteen he was tall and lanky, lean muscle covering his body where his brother Robb had been more broad. His arms wrapped around her as well, his mind reverting to a similar embrace from a memory deep within the recesses of his mind, where he was the shorter one and threw himself at her, his sister, Sansa.

All the work was a lot easier after Sansa arrived, she took over all the activities he was just no good at, and when Bran came down with stories from the wall and a wisdom beyond his years, and Arya came riding in with an accent, a tan and a handsome black haired, blue eyed bastard he never remembered her having, there was nothing for him to do. All his siblings took up positions as their respected talents complimented; Sansa became his queen regent (though he did believe he was of age), Bran became his master of coin, taking over the repairs but not releasing him of his kingship, and Arya became the master at arms, training all the young boys from the families who flocked back to Winterfell and Wintertown to help rebuild and live in peace with the Starks as their leaders once again.

Of course, he was never allowed to do whatever he wanted, even if he didn't have anything to really do now, he would have stuff to do later. Sansa had him going through classes with a maester because of his lack of an education he had over the war. He also had to sort through marriage proposals for himself and his siblings (You'd think they'd stop asking for Arya's hand after they'd sent letters to everyone announcing her marriage to her Baratheon bastard, Gendry) and replying to them as he saw fit. Most of all, Sansa had forbid him from fooling around with the staff of the holdfast after catching him kissing a scullion in the godswood.

Apparently having relations your workers is "unkingly".

Sansa's words are far from his mind though as he slips the shift off the pretty blonde serving girl and as she unlaces his breeches, pushing them down with eager hands. His sister's words are farther than far from his mind when that blonde squeals beneath him as he thrusts roughly into her, not truly caring for her pleasure, and letting out a deep growl of the name of a girl he hasn't seen for years now.

His stern, mother-like, blue-eyed sister's words were on his mind though as he watched the girl slip on her shift again, giving him a suggestive smile and a parting wave before taking her leave. The thought of how his sister had forbid him from doing the very activity he had just done made him smile and laugh. These sounds was a signal for Shaggydog to come out of hiding, and the giant black wolf did; jumping onto the king's bed and liking his master's face just like he had when he first got the wolf at three.

Rickon pushed his wolf away with another laugh, and couldn't help but thinking that fucking serving girls wouldn't be half as fun if Sansa hadn't told him not to.

_+One: Shireen Baratheon_

Rickon kissed the black haired girl sweetly, smiling down at her lovingly when she groaned sleepily and glared at him playfully. He caressed the ruined side of his face; he didn't care what anyone said, the greyscale may have scarred her, but it also made her increasingly more beautiful in his eyes. She was the strongest girl he knew, able to overcome her loveless childhood and be able to look past everyone's flaws even if they couldn't look past her own.

She shifted from her side to her back so that he could turn himself and lean on his elbows on either side of her head. She yawned, and raised her arms to wrap around his neck and pull him closer so she could nuzzle her face into his chest. He laughed, balancing his weight on one elbow so he could run his other hand down her nude body, making her sigh.

Their lips met once again, and he gently licked into her mouth; he felt no need to be rough with her, it was ten times more enjoyable taking his time to enjoy her fully. When he entered her, she made a breathless gasp that he will never tire of, and as he began to quicken his thrusts she began to gasp his name at intervals and buck her hips up into his. When he finally released, it toppled her over the edge as well and as he growled her name, and she gasped his, it sounded like music to his ears.

He rolled over and lay on his side facing her, a lazy smile on her face as he brushed a stray black hair from in front of her eyes to behind her ear. She turned to face him as well, smiling at him a way no female ever had. He'd seen the smiles of girls who liked him for his looks, the smiles of girls who had no romantic feelings for him at all, the smiles of girls who were playing the game of thrones, and the smiles of his sisters who love him unconditionally. He'd seen all those smiles, but ever since he'd seen this girl's, he's never wanted any other to look at every day for as long as he could.

And if the price for that was an 11 year wait since he met her on the wall; if the price was enduring his sister's screams that this was not an ally they had any need for; if the price was him sending three ravens to her father, before going down south to Dragonstone and getting down on his knees to beg for her hand, then he had paid it. He would pay it again too, he never regretted asking this beautiful, physically flawed young woman to marry him. He'd never regret marrying her either.

He'd had more encounters with women then he'd care to disclose… But he honestly believes that the best one he's ever had is the one with the woman he'll be having for the rest of his life.

_"I love you, Shireen Stark."_


End file.
